Not My Job
by blobfishmiffy
Summary: "Can I come in? Great." In which General Iroh gives some advice. - Korrasami. Rated T because of language(f-bombs).
1. Part 1

Iroh wasn't prepared for this.

He was Iroh, the youngest general in the history of the United forces, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. He was the eldest grandchild of Zuko the Saviour, and the eldest child of Fire Lord Izumi. His job description spoke of leadership – _and not of this_.

"Can I come in? Great." Asami Sato stepped into his office without waiting for an answer and dropped herself onto the chair at the other side of his desk. She sighed exasperatedly. "By Yue, people are _so_ annoying."

He raised his right eyebrow, only slightly aggravated. He didn't like it when people dropped by without some sort of notification, but he didn't say anything.

"You'd think that now Korra and I are out of the closet, so to speak, everything would, like, calm the fuck down. But no, _of course_ that isn't what it's like. It's everything but that. I can't even buy an new eyeshadow without being disturbed by endless seas of those _tabloid_ reporters." Her mouth pulled itself into a scowl and she put a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "You get what I mean?"

"No," Iroh said, kind of amused, because no, he didn't know what it was like to buy an eyeshadow and then being disturbed by endless seas of those tabloid reporters. Asami, however, rambled on.

"And then there's Mako. _Agni_ , Mako. He's adorable, truly adorable – but if there's one person who doesn't support you, it's Mako. And it's not like he thinks it's weird or bad or anything, but he's just so _jealous_ and it's so _annoying_. 'You don't get it'," she mocked Mako's lower voice. "'It's different for you. Your ex-girlfriends aren't dating.' By Yue, he's _such_ an annoying piece of shit. Both relationships with him didn't exactly end with things all rainbows and sunshine, and now we have to understand that he's _jealous?_ "

She stared at him for a while – her green eyes burning into his gold ones – and then leaned backwards into her chair.

"What do you think?" She then asked, and she puckered her lips defiantly. "Well?"

Iroh sighed deeply. "Let me make some tea first."

"Your jasmine tea is amazing." Asami said, clearly happy that he was preparing himself for it. "While you prepare the tea, you can tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't exactly get your problem," Iroh said drily. He poured water into the teapot and opened the gas of the tiny stove; lit it with a snap of his fingers. "Mako, or the paparazzi?"

"Mako. The press. Both." Asami sighed and followed with her eyes how he put the teapot on the fire. "It's just so frustrating."

He brushed his fingers across different packets of tea and picked out one of the jasmine mixes. "When I got married," he began in a calm tone, "the whole world was freaking out. I don't know how old you were then, because I got married very young – but the news was huge. It was even worse that I married a girl of regular Fire Nation descend. A peasant, so to speak." He turned around and rested casually against the table that held up all the tea.

"You're married?" Asami asked, voice filled with astonishment.

"Why?" he gave her a crooked grin and winked. "Don't I look like the type who'd get married?"

Asami turned red. "Well-"

"Calm down," he chuckled. "I'm not married anymore. Divorced." He showed his right hand, the absence of a golden band twinkling in absence.

"Oh," Asami said. She bit her lip. "How-"

"She cheated on me with my little brother." Her eyes widened, as if to say: _you're kidding_. He waved his hand through the air and gave a quick glance at the teapot. Steam was already escaping through the nozzle. "Long story. I did end up with an adorable little boy, though."

"You've got a son?" her eyes widened again. "How old?"

"Six. Little firebender. Last time I saw him he'd set fire to my grandfather's beard."

"You don't see him often, don't you? Do you miss him?"

Iroh smiled sadly. "More than anything in this world. But anyway, we're not talking about me, we're talking about you and Korra." A short pause. "And Mako."

"Do tell," Asami smiled. She pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them.

"When I got married, the press followed us everywhere. Seriously, everywhere. One time I almost attacked one for ending up in our bedroom."

"Wat?"

The pot whistled. Iroh quickly grabbed two cups and sprinkled the dried leaves into them. He placed one in front of Asami and one in front of his seat and grabbed the teapot. Asami eyed him with a growing scowl, knowing he was keeping her waiting. He was grinning while he poured the hot water.

"This blend has a hint of fireblossom. It adds a slight nutty aftertaste to the tea."

"Don't you _dare_ changing the subject, mister."

Iroh laughed and poured his own water. "He had broken into our room and I freaked out. Thought he was an assassin – you don't want to know how many assassinations are still being attempted by supporters of my great-grandfather Ozai."

"Hasn't Ozai been dead for ages?" she asked sceptically.

"Just for twenty-five years. Anywho, I almost shat my pants, threw a lamp in his direction and burned the pants of his legs. I've never yelled that loudly at the head of Security, nor have I ever seen my grandfather that angry. Security has been _way_ better ever since."

"And what else?"

"Basic stuff. You can't even just take a stroll around the block, for example, without being bothered." He took a small sip and Asami followed. She frowned and pouted.

"What's wrong?" he asked, amused by the expression on her face. "Too bitter?"

"No, it's great, but I'm just wondering." She explained. She took another sip.

"Well?"

"How did it stop?" she had a serious expression on her face, but when she saw he was smiling she automatically mirrored his grin. "What?"

"It never stops. You're romantically – _no doubt sexually_ – involved with the avatar, Asami. You've saved the world multiple times with her, and Mako, and Bolin, and Tenzin, and many others. People are interested in you; you've got fans. They want to know what you're life's like. What kind of clothes you wear, what kind of food you eat, what kind of make-up you use."

Her gaze was on her tea. "Oh."

"But," Iroh said, and he gave her another smile. "It lessens. You get used to it."

Asami laughed carefully. "So I just have to be patient."

Iroh nodded.

"And the Mako-problem?"

"I would've reacted weird two." Iroh said. "My two exes, dating? That would be weird. Just keep going on. He'll have to get used to it eventually. You two are his best friends after all, with Bolin."

She's silent and clutches her cup.

"Weird, isn't it?" mused Iroh, "how hearing that someone went through the same thing makes the burden so much lighter."

"I wouldn't call it lighter, but less big."

Iroh laughed. "Isn't that the same thing?"

Asami shrugged.

"Hey," he said softly, and he smiles at her when she raises her gaze to meet his. "It'll all work out. I promise. Besides, you sound way too pessimistic right now. Look pessimistic too."

Asami smiled back carefully. "I've been way too optimistic the last few years."

"Great-uncle Sokka always said that he wasn't a pessimist, just honest."

She began to laugh. It resonated through the room. "That's also a way to say it."

The two of them drank their tea in silence. When Asami was finished, she sighed deeply and placed the cup carefully on Iroh's desk. "Thank you, General. I feel way better."

He saluted and winked. "You're welcome, miss Sato."

She was already halfway the door when he suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, Asami, I've got to ask something."

She stopped and leaned against the metal. "Yes?"

He kept on searching through the pile of papers that was on the desk and snatched an envelope from between the papers. He quickly read the name of the addressed and grinned shortly, before he gave the envelope to Asami. "Will you give this to Mako?"

"Of course." She quickly eyed the paper. Mako's name was written on the front in neat, precise calligraphy. "Anything else?"

"Tell Mako that I want an answer as quickly as possible; preferably within three to four days. Oh, and tell Pema that I can't come for dinner tonight – I'm not free until next week."

She smiled. "I'll tell him. Have a nice evening, Iroh."

"You too, Asami."

Asami gave him one last smile, which he returned. As soon as she had closed the heave door behind her he leaned back in his chair and sighed, before pouring himself another cup of tea. He stared at the curling steam and was unaware of the grin growing on his face.

His job description may not have spoken of giving advice – but that didn't mean he couldn't give it.


	2. Part 2

**It's half past one in the morning. I've got a headache. But: there is a chapter :)**

 **Not proofread - I'm apologize for my grammar. It's longer than I usually write but I enjoyed it. There will be another part, I've decided - I didn't want it to get too long, y'know, because I like to keep people waiting. Hope you enoy!**

 **Also, happy 2017! Almost forgot it, lol.**

* * *

It had been a long, long day.

Chief Beifong had kept him a few hours longer. To finish a report, she'd said. Just do it, she'd said. I don't feel like doing it, she hadn't said.

It had already been dark when he finally was able to close the office. Having placed the report on Beifong's desk, Mako was finally done, and could finally go home.

Little did he know that his evening wouldn't end there.

When he arrived at home, an envelope was lying on the doormat. He'd almost tripped over it. As he picked up the thick envelope to examine it, a small note fell off. He caught it before it'd fluttered to the ground.

 _'_ _Be quick with deciding. General Iroh wants an answer within three days.'_

His heart skipped a beat.

As he closed the door behind him and stumbled further into the apartment, turning on lights on his way in, he kept his eyes on the envelope. His name was written in red ink. Perfect calligraphy. He threw his keys onto the coffee table. Kept the envelope in his hand as he walked to the kitchen area to make himself coffee.

As he heated up the water, his eyes were on the envelope. As he poured the water into a cup and stirred the CABBAGE CORP INSTANT COFFEE through it, he couldn't keep his gaze of the envelope. The red ink seemed to be calling him.

He walked towards the seating area, placed his coffee on the table, and sat down. Then he opened it.

There was a thick packet of paper inside. At least four pages of good quality paper. He pried it out of the envelope and folded it open, immediately greeted by the symbols. Eyes tired of reading them over and over again at the office, they danced across the paper.

They were written neatly, pressed onto the fibres with a typewriter. Tight, black rows of words. The content was official.

It was a contract, Mako noticed.

He had no last name. Most people didn't. They'd had the chance, though. For not too much money people were able to create a last name. Bolin had suggested they'd make it _fire_ or _ferret_ or maybe even both but no, Mako had countered that. No way they'd be named the same as their pro-bending group.

And so, the greeting read ' _Dear sir Mako,'._

It would've been funny, if his heart hadn't been racing at the speed of light for what was to come.

He read the thing through. The insignia of the United Nations was just above the space for the signatures and it seemed to pierce his soul.

Mako swallowed and closed his eyes briefly, before rereading the letter. The message was clear: General Iroh, the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, wanted him to join the army. His signature, wide and elaborate, was written on the bottom left of the paper. On the right, there was space for his.

Three days to make up his mind.

He read the contract again. He reread and reread and reread until his eyes were burning and his head was hurting.

A position in the army.

Hands shaking and fingers trembling, he reached out at the envelope and peeked in to see if there was anything else – and there was. A small, thin piece of paper, folded. He reached in and pulled it out of the envelope. Folding it open, Mako let his eyes fall on the neat handwriting.

 _'_ _Dear Mako,_

 _This may come to a shock. I'm terribly sorry if I've just given you a heart-attack._

 _Truth is, I'm very impressed by you, officer. Your bending, your endurance, your sense of leadership – they're all highly developed. I would love to have you join the Forces. I know it's a hard decision. Don't worry, you won't insult me if you refuse. It's a big change, joining the army, so think about it well._

 _Please contact me as soon as possible with an answer. Though I'll still be here for a while, I need to know quickly, so that if you refuse I have time to find another person._

 _Awaiting your reply,_

 _Iroh, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, General of the United Forces.'_

Mako blinked. Blinked again. Then-

"MAKO! You won't believe this!"

Bolin burst into their apartment with an excited squeal and slammed the door. Mako almost knocked his cup of coffee to the ground and opened his mouth to yell some kind of angry insult at his little brother, but the earthbender beat him to speaking.

"The Fire Ferrets've been asked to play at the Fire Nation Palace!"

Mako blinked. "What-"

"I know right! I had the same reaction." Bolin goes and sits on the coffee table – right on the contract – and hands Mako the letter. "Read!" he urges his older brother, before grabbing the cup of coffee and slurping it down.

Mako is too tired to protest and quickly scans over the document, eyes resting at the royal insignia at the bottom. A smile tugs at his lips.

"That's great, Bo." He tries to pump as much enthusiasm as possible into the words, and he manages to turn his smile into a grin. "Congratulations."

"Thanks!" Bolin is beaming, eyes sparkling and cheeks dimpled. He slams the empty cup back onto the table, rips the paper from Mako's hands and begins reading it again. "I still can't really believe it. It's like I'm dreaming."

Dreaming. That's a nice way to describe their situation right now – it feels as if the world isn't real. So many opportunities, so much love. It seemed crazy that before avatar Korra tumbled herself into their world four years ago, they were still living above the pro-bending stadium, in their own little circle, struggling to stay out of the underworld of Republic City. He sighed.

"What's wrong, bro?" Mako lifted his gaze to meet Bolin's, who had a concerned look in his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, Bo. I'm just… tired." He shot Bolin a small smile. "And you're sitting on my papers."

"Oh." Bolin stood up, sheepishly grinning, and turned to sit next to him on the couch. "What're you working on?"

Mako stared at the bottom of general Iroh's letter.

 _'_ _Awaiting your reply,_

 _Iroh, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, General of the United Forces.'_

"Is that-" Bolin blinked a few times and leaned a bit closer, "General Iroh's autograph?"

Mako nodded silently.

"Spirits, Mako." Bolin grinned at him. "I know the generals cool and all – but I didn't know you were a fan."

"Shut it, Bo." Mako picked the letter and the contract from the table. "He's asked me something."

"Asked you what?"

Bolin was met by silence.

"Come'n, Mako. Tell me. It can't be that bad." Bolin laughed half-heartedly, getting a bit nervous by his brother's silence.

Mako shot a glance at his brother and observed his face. Slightly worried frown; big, green eyes; upturned nose; small smile. Would it be okay to tell him?

"Well, if you're just gonna keep quiet, don't mind me giving Pabu a bath." Bolin stood up from the sofa and walked towards the kitchen area, no doubt to heat up some water.

Mako redirected his gaze towards the letter. " _I'm very impressed by you, officer_ ". General Iroh was _impressed_ by him. _By him._ Iroh, the guy who took down like fifteen planes on his own, the guy whose grandfather literally saved the world from being transformed into ash, was impressed by _Mako_.

A smile was tugging at his lips and his heart was racing in his chest.

"Hey Bo," he called out. "How'd you feel if I joined the army?"

Iroh hadn't been expecting anyone.

He was busying himself with endless piles of reports. He didn't hate the job – it had to be done, and if he were to be Fire Lord soon he'd have to it even more – but it was annoying, hard work. His hand ached when he finally would be finished; which he wouldn't, he predicted, as it was almost midnight and he still had more than half to go.

No, he hadn't been expecting anyone. Imagine his surprise when someone knocked on his door.

"Yes?" he asked, a tad-bit suspicious. Usually, none of the marines on the ship bothered him – especially this late at night. Though he highly doubted it was an assassin.

The door opened. "General Iroh, good evening, sir."

It was Mako. The twenty-two year old stood in the doorway, hat nervously clutched in his hand. His hair was carefully brushed into position, very similar to Iroh's, he noted, and his eyes darted around the room.

"Can I come in? Great." He said, before Iroh could say anything. A smile tugged at Iroh's lips – the similarity with that afternoon was stunning.

"Since you're here, I assume you have an answer?" Iroh predicted, putting his pen away. He made the pile of finished papers a little neater and looked questionably at the boy, who nodded slowly.

"Not yet, General."

"Oh?" Iroh raised his eyebrows. "Then why the visit? Because I really need to-"

"Why'd you join the army?" Mako blurted out. He took a seat at the other side of the desk without asking for permission, still clutching his hat. "I mean, you're the Crown Prince, aren't you? Surely you also had other jobs you could've done? More safe jobs?"

Iroh was stunned into a silence. "I suppose," he then said, unblinking, "but I wanted to."

"But why?" Mako leaned forward. He was frowning in confusion. "Why did you join?"

He'd been asked that question just a few times; by his little sister, his mother, and his grandmother. His sister didn't want him to leave, his mother didn't want him to die, and his grandmother was just concerned he was pushed into it by her son. Every time, he answered the same thing: "For myself."

"For yourself?" Mako was more than surprised.

Iroh nodded. He paused for a few seconds. "You drink, Mako?"

He nodded silently, and leaned back into the chair, fiddling with the fabric of the hat. Iroh stood up and opened a cabinet – quickly grabbed a bottle of some sort of rum. "Nothing too strong, please, I still need to get home."

Iroh smiled slightly, snatching two small glasses from the cabinet. "Didn't think you'd be a lightweight," he spoke, popping the bottle open and pouring the liquid into the glasses.

"I'm not," Mako retorted childishly. He accepted the glass Iroh gave him and took a sip, slightly wrinkling his nose.

Iroh sat down. "I needed discipline. I was a spoiled little prince. I realised I couldn't lead a country if I didn't learn to fight for what I wanted, so I joined the army."

"Did your family agree?"

"No," Iroh answered slowly, "no, they didn't. At least, most of them didn't. My grandfather agreed with my, told me to find my own path. We usually agree on such things. And my father promised to watch over me. I was placed in his ship not long after joining." He was tempted to down it in one go, but decided against it, taking a small sip instead.

"Isn't your father Admiral Bumi?"

"Why, yes." Once again, Mako had managed to surprise him. "How'd you know?"

"He talks about you, sometimes." Mako answered. "When he's had too much to drink."

"Figures," Iroh mumbled, and a voice in the back of his head whispered something about hypocrisy. "My parents haven't had a very good relationship since dad let me join the Forces. Did you know my father hasn't even visited the Capital since his retirement, let alone the Fire Nation? I don't even know if they've corresponded through letters."

"Sounds fun."

"I'm not bothered by it," Iroh said, "I'm not bothered by it at all. It's their business, isn't it?"

Mako produced a weak laugh and Iroh smiled. He took a sip, swishing the liquid in his glass around for a bit.

"Haven't you got a family then?"

"I've got a six year old son. I was married." He wiggled the fingers of his right hand. "She cheated on me with my brother. They ran away together, and I haven't spoken or seen either of them since. My sister and mother care for my boy while I'm away."

Mako blinked, before taking a small sip. "You were married?"

Iroh laughed. "That's the second time I'm getting that reaction today. Is it that hard to believe that I'd get married?"

"Yes." Mako answered, a small smile on his face.

Grinning, Iroh put the glass to his lips and took another swig. "I must say," he began, after swallowing, "you're exactly how I expected you'd be."

Mako's eyes widened and he almost choked on the rum. After clearing his throat, he sniffed, and wiped his mouth. "What do you mean?"

An amused smile was playing around Iroh's lips. "We've never really talked, have we? I converse with Asami on a regular basis, though it's more like she rants about whatever is on her mind and I comment on it, I talk with Korra more than often since she likes me to practice with her, and I've even talked with your little brother, Bolin, once. After he stopped hyperventilating, that is, but we talked for about an hour." Iroh paused, cocking his head slightly to the left. "I've never truly spoken with you."

"I was – _am_ , kind of intimidated by you, if I'm being honest." Mako confessed. "You're kind of, well, _royal_ and I'm a- a-"

"A police officer?" Iroh suggested, a very dry tone to his voice.

"-a street rat."

"Wouldn't say that." He looked at Mako, who'd nervously downed his alcohol after he had spoken. "You know, one time, about ten years ago, the ship I was on was situated here in Republic City. It was a little holiday, so to speak. I set off into the city. Somehow I wandered into the backstreets, and got mugged."

Mako's head shot up, eyes widening. He grabbed the bottle and poured himself some more.

"I chased after him. My mugger was a boy, couldn't have been older than twelve. He was skinny and dressed in rags and extremely quick, though I managed to keep up with him. I even managed to make him believe at some point that he'd lost me. I kept shadowing him, even after he'd already spend some of my money on food. I followed him up until he entered a dirty alleyway. I was about to jump him and take my money back, until he called out for his brother. Then I realised, and I stepped away." Iroh eyed Mako, who had his eyes on the floor. "I suppose you know who that was, don't you?"

"Your money provided us with three weeks' worth of food." Mako was still looking at his shoes. "We hadn't eaten for three days straight before that. Well, Bolin hadn't. I'd been giving him my meals."

"I should've done something."

"It wasn't your job."

"But that doesn't mean I couldn't've done something."

Mako smiled weakly and straightened up. "Things worked out, didn't they?"

Iroh was silent and downed his drink.

"Weird turn of conversation, sir." He seemed to push himself to grin. "I came here to have you convince me to join, and here we are, talking about something that happened ten years ago."

"I do hope I _have_ convinced you to join."

"For the most part, yes."

"What do you mean?"

Mako grinned again, for real this time. "I'm am extremely frightened of how chief Beifong is going to react."

Iroh started to laugh; he heard Mako laughing with him. "Aunt Lin indeed isn't what you'd call, a _softie._ I wish you luck, Officer."

" _Aunt Lin?_ "

"I swear to Agni, Mako, don't tell her I called her that. _Please._ "

Mako's eyes glinted in the yellow light of the lamps. "Only if you break the news to her."

Iroh smiled. "Blackmail, what a way. But hey, you have a deal." They shook hands, Mako grinning widely and Iroh with an amused smile.

"So, how was your youth in the Fire Nation?"

"Well-"

The night progressed quickly, too quickly for either of them to fathom. Suddenly, after hours of talking and memories and sharing experiences, it was the brink of dawn. One bottle had turned into two, and then into three, and the both of them were downing water, already feeling the headache they knew was going to make itself present in a few hours.

"So when do you want me to give her the news?"

Mako was trying to shake the intoxication out of his head. "Ehm, today? Preferably."

"Fine. Do you have the contract with you?" Mako fished paper out of his pocket and presented it to Iroh. The latter raised his eyebrows. "Did you sign it?"

Silently, Mako folded it open and smoothed it out. He held out his hand.

"Are you being serious-"

Mako didn't answer and Iroh sighed, placing a pen in Mako's hand. He signed it quickly. Mako's signature appeared small and unofficial next to his, Iroh noticed, but he didn't say anything and plucked the paper off his desk. "Great," he said, and he shot Mako a smile. "I'll come over this afternoon."

Mako nodded and smiled back. "That sounds good."


End file.
